


Memory Lane

by Maeve_of_Winter



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Confessions, Dark Past, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moving In Together, Past Relationship(s), Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-18 03:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13673349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: A discovery of a trio of snapshots prompts Alexei to ask Kent about his previous relationship with Jack. Kent reveals the secrets behind Jack's overdose.





	Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aleksrothis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/gifts).



When Alexei happened across the photos, he was in the living room, sorting through boxes. Kent was outside retrieving the last of the load from his truck.

The series of snapshots are linked together in a way that Alexei recognized as probably having been printed from one of those paid booth machines, and he plucked up the strip from where it rested in the cup of Kent’s Art Ross to examine it curiously. If Kenny had kept it right alongside his hockey trophies, which were numerous but still quite precious to him, he obviously considered the images to be of equal importance.

There are two figures in all of the images, and Alexei recognized both of them instantly: Kenny and Zimmboni. They were years younger, clearly not yet out of their teens, and Alexei was amused to note that while Jack had a different haircut back then, Kent’s hair was obscured by a backwards snapback, just as it frequently was today.

Numerous details of the pictures registered with him—the carefree expressions on both Kent and Jack’s faces, their playful body language that signalled an evident familiarity with each other, and the utter happiness in their eyes and smiles.

But what Alexei paid the most attention to was their poses. Jack and Kent had positioned themselves differently in each of the three snapshots, but it was obvious in each of them that there was some type of romantic relationship between them.

In one of them, their faces were pressed cheek to cheek, smiles on their faces and their arms around each other. In another, they were kissing, focused only on each other and not looking at the camera. In the final photo, Kent had evidently been pulled into Jack’s lap; Jack’s arms were coiled around his waist, and Kent’s arms were wrapped around his shoulders as he sat sideways on Jack’s thighs. Both were gazing at each other adoringly. It was a scenario Alexei had witnessed himself numerous times, except when he had, Kent wasn’t the blond sitting in Jack’s lap, but Bitty.

In fact, it had been Bitty who had told him of Jack and Kent’s previous relationship.

“It’s not really my place to say, but if it were me, I’d want to know about the people Jack had dated before me. And, well, it just so happens that Kent’s one of those people,” Bitty had said with a shrug. “Knowing just how much of a peach Kent is, I don’t know that he’d want to upset you by telling you.”

“Not upset,” Alexei had replied evenly. “Kenny probably just waiting for right moment.”

Bitty had patted Alexei’s hand. “I’ll pray for you.”

When Alexei had asked Jack about it, he’d gotten a terse response.

“We dated back when we were in Juniors. We haven’t been together since he was drafted for the NHL,” Jack had answered shortly.

That exchange had been several months ago. Kenny himself rarely mentioned Jack or “Eric,” as he called Bitty, only briefly discussing them in distant, polite terms when someone brought them up in conversation before smoothly changing the subject. Thinking that Kenny would broach the topic if he wanted to tell him, Alexei resolved to wait until Kenny himself brought it up, but so far, Kenny never had.

Now, as he fingered the edge of the trio of snapshots, Alexei couldn’t help but wonder if that decision had been the right one.

He was jolted out of his musings by Kent striding into the room and plunking down a cardboard box.

“Last one,” he said victoriously, tossing Alexei a smile. “Once we unpack these, I’ll be officially moved in.”

“Am glad,” Alexei told him honestly, dipping down slightly to give Kent a kiss.

Kent ave him a contented smile that faltered slightly when he glimpsed the pictures still in his hand. “What’s that?”

Alexei offered them to him. “You. With Zimmboni.”

Kent’s smile vanished completely as he accepted the photos, replaced by a wistful sadness that made Alexei’s heart ache at the sight.

“My God,” he murmured. “I’d forgotten how young we were.” Looking up at Alexei, he gave a short explanation. “Jack and I used to be involved. Boyfriends,” he clarified, tossing the strip down onto the coffee table.

Alexei nodded. “I know. Little B is saying that to me months ago.”

“How kind of Eric. I’ll have to remember to thank him for that next time I see him,” Kent commented, withdrawing the Hart from its box to set it on the shelf. He turned to look at Alexei. “Still, I knew I would have to tell you sometime or another, so it’s good that you know.”

“It was rough ending? For you and Zimmboni?” Alexei asked. He can’t help but be curious about how the two happy teenagers in the picture evolved into two men extremely reluctant to discuss their past together.

Kent drew in a deep breath. “You remember how Jack overdosed? Right before the draft?”

“Zimbonni had problem. Is better now,” Alexei replied firmly and automatically, a reflexive response after spending years defending Jack to the media, to rival teams, and even to other Falcs.

“And I’m glad for it,” Kent said softly. “Alexei, Jack and I were together up until the draft. We were boyfriends, and when he OD’ed, that was when it was over for us. Afterwards, we suddenly just weren’t boyfriends anymore. There was no discussion to it. We were just over. I tried to go see him at the hospital, but he was still in a coma by the time I had to leave. Alicia called to tell me that he’d woken up but then . . .” Kent swallowed, a muscle in his jaw working frantically.

He shook his head. “I kept trying to call him.” A note of defeat entered his voice. “I called him day after day, desperate to talk to him, because I knew that he was all right, but I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to be absolutely sure.” His voice shook. “But Jack never picked up. At first I thought that maybe he didn’t want to me when he was in rehab. But I had a Google alert on his name, and when I finally got a decent piece of info on him instead of just rehashes of his OD, I found out that his program had ended weeks ago. But he still hadn't called.” A bitter smile tugged at the corner of Kent’s mouth. “He cut me out of his life. But maybe I deserved that.”

“Do not say such things,” Alexei said firmly, putting a protective arm around Kent’s shoulders and using the other hand to tilt his chin upwards so their eyes could meet. He studied Kent, his heart aching at the pain he saw in his blue-gray gaze. “Why Zimmboni not talk to you?”

Kent let out a heavy sigh. “In Juniors, I knew Jack had problems. He had the weight of the world riding on his shoulders because he was desperate to live up to his dad’s name, determined to be the absolute best. He put so much pressure on himself—I could see it, and I tried to help. I tried to tell him that he was going to go first in the draft, and then that even if he didn’t, he was still an amazing player. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t see that, why the draft mattered so much to to him, because he had so much else. But I guess . . .” he gave a helpless shrug. “I guess the combination of the draft and everything else was overwhelming to him. I didn’t realize how badly he was hurting until I found him passed out on pills the night before.”

Alexei stared at Kent in disbelief, shock coursing through him. His mouth opened and closed several times before he could manage to get the words out. “It was you? You one who found him?”

Kent nodded, the weariness in his gaze making him look ages older. “I found him. I started CPR. I rode with him in the ambulance, and I called Bob and Alicia and met them at the hospital. I held both of them as they cried. I . . .” he rubbed his temples with his hands. “I waited with them for as long as I could, but I still had the draft, so I had to leave them and Jack. I didn’t want to, but . . .” he exhaled heavily. “That’s the way it goes sometimes. We all have to do things we don’t want.”

“And then you and Zimmboni not talk?” Alexei questioned, frowning, trying to reconcile with the idea of continued cold rebuffs from a teammate he’d always considered reliable. Images flashed through his mind of Jack unmoving in a hospital bed. Of Kenny, nineteen years old and completely on his own in Las Vegas, desperately waiting for a call that would never come. “For how long?”

“We talked eventually,” Kent told him. “I tried to give him time, and honestly? I was hoping he’d make the first move and he reach out to me before I reached out to him. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in me.” He attempted to give a grin, but it was marred by the obvious pain on his face. “Once I heard about him going to that college in New England, I drove up there on my Cup day to see him. I had this idea that I could show him the Cup, show him that he could make a comeback and that I would be able to help him. But, uh, he wasn’t impressed.” Kent sighed. “In hindsight, it was naïve to think that me showing up could magically make everything better, especially after months of him ignoring my calls. But something kept me going up there, because I visited him there a few times after that, even though I knew deep down there was nothing more I could do for him. It was like Jack had some sort of power over me, something that made me forget all reason. I don’t know what you’d call it—”

“Love?” Alexei questioned gently.

Kent paused for a moment, thinking, but then shook his head. “No,” he said resolutely. “It was more out of guilt. A feeling that I should’ve been able to help Jack before, and that since I hadn’t, now I had to make it up to him and resurrect his career. All while we were in Juniors, I’d thought it was my duty to save Jack from himself, and when I couldn’t do that, I thought that I’d failed Jack and robbed myself of the chance to happy with him. But when I look back now, I can see that even if he hadn’t overdosed then and had gone first in the NHL draft, I wouldn’t have been able to keep him together forever. He’d always needed more help than I knew how to give, and I’m glad he got it, even though I hated the path he needed to take to get there.”

As Alexei watched, Kent gazed down at the photos again, a bittersweet fondness in his eyes. Then, Kent raised his eyes to him.

“When Jack and I were together, it was a good time in my life,” Kent said quietly. “One I tried to get back over and over again. But it’s not coming back, and at this point, I don’t want it to. I wish things hadn’t ended that way between Jack and I. I wish I would have been able to stop him from overdosing and that he hadn’t ignored my calls for months. But I wasn’t, and he did, and both of those things and everything else make me think that maybe it was better that we split up, even though it hurt.”

He placed the snapshots back in the cup of the Art Ross, and then as Alex watched, reached into the trophy box again and withdrew his Ted Lindsay Award. But he set it aside on the coffee table and then brought out a framed photo of himself and Alexei, the one of them celebrating their first-year anniversary. Carefully, he placed it in the center of the shelf so it stood before any of the trophies. It would be the first item anyone noticed when they glanced over at the award collection.

Standing on his tiptoes, Kent gave Alexei a peck on the cheek. “I loved Jack back then. But if I’d stayed with him, I never would have gotten the chance to be with you. And you’re the one I love now.” He reached up and caressed Alexei’s cheek, his fingers trailing over his skin and bringing it to tingle at his touch. “That’s not going to change.”

“Love you, too, Kenny,” Alexei said fiercely, pulling Kent into a strong bear hug. “Glad you told me about you and Zimmboni. Don’t make difference to me, though. Love you no matter what. But am sorry that you hurt.”

Kent rested his head comfortably on Alexei’s chest. “Thanks, big guy. That means a lot. But I’m better now.” He squeezed Alexei tighter. “I’m better for being with you.”


End file.
